


Time For a Haircut. Oh Boy.

by QueerCrusader



Series: Keep Sirius Away From Harry's Hair - a Saga [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Raising Harry Potter, Toddler Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2018-06-17
Packaged: 2019-05-24 13:26:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14955536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueerCrusader/pseuds/QueerCrusader
Summary: Raise your hand if you think letting Sirius cut a four-year-old Harry's hair is a good idea.





	Time For a Haircut. Oh Boy.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, will you look at that. My Wolfstar debut. Hope it's up to snuff. Enjoy!

“Sirius, no,” Remus sighed.

“Sirius yes!”

A four-year-old Harry crowed in delight as he clapped his hands, watching his dads bicker over him. He already knew that raised voices led to the appearance of Padfoot – though he was oblivious to the fact that it was because Remus always won, Sirius was a sore loser and Padfoot was way better at sulking.

This wasn’t an argument, however – not yet, anyway. And Sirius was gonna Win this time, he was sure of it. He lovingly ran his fingers through the mess of hair at the nape of the toddler’s neck, envisaging all the ways he could turn this into the raddest hairstyle on the block.

“Sirius, you’d have to bleach his hair in order for the colour to even show!” Remus pointed out, spoiling the moment. “Do you know what bleach does to a toddler? Or to an adult, even? And how easy it is to go wrong with that?”

Sirius blinked. “Since when do you know anything about Muggle hair products?” he asked, before raising a hand. “Don’t answer that. All I’m saying is, whatever damage we do, I’m sure we can fix it easily with some magic.”

“Oh no,” Remus laughed, “there is _definitely_ no ‘we’ in this. This is all you. I’m not touching any peroxide. And you know what, neither are you for that matter!”

“But _mum_ ,” Sirius whined, ignoring his lover’s eyeroll. “I have to do this the proper way! It’s been so long! An artist needs to be free and work with the materials that call to him the most!”

Harry had become distracted by now, trying to get away to find his crayons to make a drawing of Padfoot. Surely that should give his godfathers the message. Padfoot was late, and his presence was demanded. Remus smiled as he watched the boy, before aiming an accusing finger at Sirius.

“The closest you ever came to art was when you collected all the tea leaves during Divination and magicked them to form a giant ‘shroom on the wall as a symbol of what true expansion of the mind was meant to look like.”

Sirius barked out a laugh at that, reaching over to lift Harry up and put him back between the two men, Levitating the drawing materials over too to keep the toddler occupied. “Good times,” he mused. “But you’re wrong. I’m very much an artist, Moony. You’ve just never seen it.”

He ran his fingers through Harry’s hair again. It really was getting too long, but they’d been reluctant to take him to the hairdresser’s like they’d done in the past. Remus was too nervous of accidentally cutting into the boy’s ear, and Sirius was forbidden to touch scissors after the Great Kitchen Incident of ’83. Neither felt confident enough to try using magic, not since they’d all had a go at “improving” James’ hair back in sixth year, which had naturally been a disaster and had somehow led to Prongs having antlers five times as fuzzy as usual, making it look like Devil’s Snare was growing from his head. It had been hilarious, but not exactly good for their self-confidence in relation to hair. The hairdresser had been their safest bet, but Harry was becoming restless and squirmy to the point where even professionals were getting mad.

“You may not believe it, but when I ran away and joined the Potters, I worked in a barbershop for three weeks,” Sirius admitted proudly.

“Funny, I would’ve expected you to last shorter than that,” Remus quipped, receiving a crayon in the face for it. Harry giggled, and Sirius high-fived the boy. _Just like his dad_ , he thought.

“Hilarious, Moony. Just because you don’t trust me with scissors, doesn’t mean I can’t use them. I just avoid magic when it comes to hair. Besides, the Muggle way is way more fun! Have you ever properly listened to the sound of those scissors snipping away? Music to my ears.”

“Fine,” Remus replied, tossing the crayon back at Sirius’ head and smirking when he hit his mark, “I might let you practice on me before I pass any judgement on your scissoring skills.”

“But Moony, I’ve practiced my ‘scissoring skills’ on you more than enough by now I’d think,” Sirius winked. Remus facepalmed.

“You know what I mean. But you’re not bleaching Harry’s hair! He’s only four!”

“’M old enough!” Harry protested, clearly having no idea what they were discussing. Remus chuckled.

“No-one is old enough to have their hair bleached by Sirius,” he told the boy with a wink.

“Hey!”

“What colour do you even wanna give him?”

Sirius’ face broke into a grin. He’d been waiting for that question.

“Purple.”

“Purple!?” Remus’ eyebrows shot up into the stratosphere. “Are you mad!? Why?”

“Because it clashes so disgustingly with his eyes,” Sirius mused lovingly as he carted his fingers through Harry’s hair again. “No-one’s gonna even look at his scar, they’ll be too busy looking away.”

“Or vomiting, more like,” Remus muttered. “Why am I letting you do this?”

Sirius gasped excitedly. “Does this mean I’m allowed to dye his hair?”

“Only with magic!” Remus warned. “And we’re using a manual!”

“Do you hear that, Harry?” Sirius cried out, lifting the toddler high into the air, causing him to shriek with delight. “Now, kiddo, how do you feel about a mohawk?”

“ _DON’T YOU DARE!_ ”

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on [tumblr](https://queer-crusader.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
